


Connected

by obviouslyelementary



Category: Markiplier Egos
Genre: Angst, M/M, NSFW ish, Old Married Couple, Romance, Slow Dancing, light - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 05:09:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14561544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obviouslyelementary/pseuds/obviouslyelementary





	Connected

What impressed them, maybe what impressed everyone around them, was how connected they were.

How they would think of something, and suddenly they were doing it, before they could notice, before they could think it over, before they could even feel it.

None of the others could understand that connection, and they never would.

It brought a smile to their faces.

And if Wilford had thought of decorating his and Dark's room that evening after he arrived from work, if he had thought of lightening some candles, dimming the lights and putting on a romantic song to play, he wasn't surprised when he stepped inside the room, to the sound of Elvis Presley, smelling like roses and with lights that barely let him see the window on the other side.

Arms circled his waist as he stepped forward, the door closed, and Wilford immediately felt his muscles relaxing, head leaning towards the left to accommodate a head on his shoulder, his hands sliding over the nice suit all the way down the cold hands of his lover.

"I was thinking the same thing" he whispered, quietly into the darkness, and let himself be turned around, eyes catching the ones in front of him, their noses gently pressing together at how close they were.

"I'm glad" Dark whispered back, holding Wilford's waist and letting a smile curl up his dark grey lips as Wilford's arms found their way to Dark's shoulders, head tilting just slightly, nose brushing against his cheek.

Their foreheads pressed together and Wilford didn't have to say anything. His eyes closed and so did Dark's, both leaning forward and gently pressing their lips together, something softer than a kiss, just a light brush, and it was like all candles shone brighter and warmer.

And then, Dark gave the first step, and Wilford followed with his own. Slowly, they found their rhythm, moving together slowly, maybe a little slower than the song, but they didn't mind. They waved through the dark room, Wilford's arms slowly tightening around Dark's neck, pulling him closer, one hand sliding through his hair to hold the back of his head, lips gently brushing together, enough for them to feel each other's breathing, even though he knew he was surely breathless.

He always was, around Dark.

Dark's hands pulled Wilford closer, their legs tangling, and as the song continued, or maybe another, Wilford wasn't sure, Dark pulled away, stepping back and gently twirling Wilford before pulling him closer again.

A smile formed in their faces and they looked at each other, noses brushing together ever so slightly, Wilford still holding his head gently, letting out a light chuckle that was easily mirrored by Dark.

"I love you Darkling" he whispered, teasingly, and Dark hummed, his eyes sparkling both red and blue, squinting close in a sign of happiness, pure and simple.

"I love you too Wil"

They looked at each other for a single moment longer before they leaned in, crossing their gazes until they pressed their lips together. This time, the kiss was real, lips moving slowly, gentle and light, as their hands moved slowly, Dark's going up Wilford's sides, gently sliding his fingers under his suspenders and letting them fall off Wilford's shoulders, as Wilford pushed off Dark's coat, smiling into the kiss as it fell down to the ground.

Together, their hands reached for each other's tops, with Dark's neatly undoing Wilford's bowtie as Wilford slid down his front and began undoing the buttons of his white shirt. Their kiss continued, light and slow and simple, the music filling in the silence as they undid each other's clothes, both pushing the shirts off at the same time and letting them fall off their arms onto the ground.

Almost like a tradition, Wilford's hands slid to Dark's waist, thumb feeling over his many scars, going up towards his chest and feeling the bullet wound, gently, ever so careful, aware of it's never healing magic, just Dark's hands went to Wilford's neck, down his shoulders, feeling his scars, the ones from battles, from wars, internal and external, down to his chest, over his heart, where his biggest wound remained.

Both breathless, they broke the kiss just to feel, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed in their silent agreements not to look, not to make out of it any more than past memories.

Dark felt his shoulders, neck, broad back and strong muscles, that never truly left his body despite of the lack of training, despite of the age, of the decades since the war, since he acquired them. Wilford felt Dark's chest, his slim waist and sharp lines, a constant reminder of what he once was and what he was now.

Their hands found the rims of each other's pants and, in a moment of vulnerability, they both chuckled and smiled, breathless and lightly broken, both weak. For each other, for the world, for reality, neither were sure, or right. The chuckle became a gasp for air, the vulnerability became lust, the fear became excitement. Their hands moved slow to undress each other, they had all the time in the world.

They moved in synchrony, pants sliding down, both of them stepping to the same side, fearlessly reaching for their last garments, pushing them down and quickly pressing together again, now in their entire vulnerability and weakness.

Their kiss now was breathless, desperate and quick. It was hard and strong, firm and not at all polite, gripping and searching, pulling and ripping.

Dark pushed Wilford onto the bed and he fell, sitting down and quickly being rewarded by Dark climbing onto him, kissing him again and sitting with their bodies pressed together, glued to the bone, kisses quick and desperate, hands moving, exploring and searching, marking and hurting.

Wilford turned them around easily, laying Dark down and crawling over him. They kissed again, pressing together, moaning, groaning, begging and whispering, mixing up with the songs still playing, bringing tears to their eyes.

And Wilford wondered if Dark knew how painfully familiar he felt, under his hands, kissing his lips, moaning his name.

They settled, while Wilford pressed kisses and kisses of praise and love against his neck, holding him close, wanting nothing more than to keep them there, stay exactly like that forever.

But they couldn't.

They never could.

So, he laid down next to Dark, accepting his inviting arms and hiding his face against his neck.

And as he expected, sleep took him to its land, where everything was beautiful.

Everything was red and blue and grey...

And beautiful.


End file.
